Page 144 of A Reign of Embers

Never mind that I’d imagine Valerisse will slit my throat even if I fold now, but it’s possible she’ll simply exile me to Accasy as if I was never much of a threat to begin with.

My resolve has hardened into an impenetrable shell around the soft heart she’d mock. My reply comes firm and steady. “I am Your Imperial Highness Empress Aurelia as ordained by the gods, and I will not bow to a traitor. If she means to defy divine will, I must stand against her for the empire’s sake.”

The soldier doesn’t appear ruffled by my reminder of the treason he’s a party to. He tips his head. “So be it.”

Then he rides off without another word.

As we stride back up the hill, Axius falls in next to me. “They’ll most likely attack at first light in the morning—once they’re rested but hoping to catch us before we’re quite roused. We should sleep in shifts and have everyone alert well before dawn.”

I nod, though the squirming of tension in my stomach suggests I’m not likely to get much sleep at all. “Pass on the orders.”

By my tent, the same dun canvas as the others so itdoesn’t stand out as a target, I check the jugs that hold my two prepared concoctions and the bundled ingredients in case I need to invent another. Three cauldrons are already filled with water, ready to be set to a boil as soon as I might need to brew something new.

My pulse thumps at a shaky rhythm, spiked with adrenaline. I lie down on my sleeping pallet and close my eyes, but my thoughts spin on in the darkness.

When the call goes up throughout camp for everyone to ready themselves, I can’t remember whether I ever drifted off. The pounding of my heart draws me to my feet and out into last dregs of the night.

Bastien appears near my tent, his auburn hair turned starker red by the wavering firelight. He has his bow slung over his shoulder alongside a quiver of arrows, but that’s not the main way he’ll be fighting today.

I tap the top of the larger jug. “As soon as they start moving, we’ll need the rain.”

His face tenses in momentary concentration. “There’s a damp patch of cloud not too far to the west. I can bring it here in a matter of minutes. I’ll start nudging it this way so it’s even closer.”

Marc steps up at my other side, his gaze on the distant slopes. “I’ve tried to sense their greatest weakness, but at the moment it’s nothing we could exploit without leaving ourselves open far more.”

I touch his arm. “We expected that. Don’t strain your gift—try again if it looks like the situation may have shifted enough to allow better possibilities.”

His mouth twists. “I’ve never wished more that I made a greater sacrifice. If my gift could?—”

His words are cut off by a louder holler. “They’re coming!”

Goosebumps dapple my arms. I spin toward the enemyencampment, but there still isn’t even a faint haze of dawn touching the sky. I can’t see anything other than the tiny flares of campfires and torches.

They’re striking out even earlier than Axius predicted. Maybe Valerisse has soldiers with gifts for helping their colleagues navigate the darkness.

All across our camp, my soldiers scramble with even greater urgency, tossing on helms and brandishing their weapons. The officers bark orders to assemble them into their formations.

I wrench the cork out of the jug and glance at Bastien. “As soon as you can.”

He signals his agreement, his face turned sallow and his eyes distant as he urges the wind against those far-off clouds.

I adjust the reinforced vest I’m wearing beneath my simple dress—a birthday gift from Raul that’s protected me before—and strap my sword belt around my waist. The hasty thudding of soldiers’ feet all around me echoes my racing pulse.

Bending, I quickly light the camp stoves beneath my waiting cauldrons. The more prepared I am, the more likely we’ll make it through this onslaught.

Axius calls for us to douse the larger campfires—to lessen what light we’re giving the enemy, I presume. But even as the flames flicker out with hisses of water, a few gray smudges of daylight creep up from the horizon.

Valerisse’s force has already crossed half the distance between our camps. If we hadn’t risen early in anticipation of a dawn strike, her soldiers would have caught us still scrambling.

As it is, the dark clouds to the west roll in much slower than my straining nerves can take comfort in. I bite back the urge to tell Bastien to work faster.

He can see the coming threat as well as I can. The rainwon’t do anything for us if he’s too drained to carry out the rest of the plan.

Our archers shoot a flurry of arrows toward the approaching army, but most rattle against the shields the soldiers raise. The officers by our catapults yell for the larger projectiles to be launched.

One boulder smashes into the middle of the enemy ranks, toppling at least a few of our opponents. Another whips into their midst, and another—those stopped and broken into dust by someone’s gift as they descend.

The other princes hurl their gifts into the fray. Raul digs into the shadows that still cloak the landscape, and the front line of marching soldiers topples as if felled by a trip wire. As their colleagues halt to yank them back to their feet, Neven heaves a specially rigged catapult with his enhanced strength to send a whole volley of granite blocks down on their heads.

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